


the sharp knife of a short life

by hearden



Series: Legacy of Power [3]
Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Power Rangers
Genre: Angst, Death, Depression, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearden/pseuds/hearden
Summary: Only years after losing their mentor, the original Power Rangers are torn apart in the wake of Trini Kwan’s death.(A companion oneshot to Second Chance/prequel oneshot to Legacy of Power.)





	the sharp knife of a short life

**Author's Note:**

> there's too many users to tag for this but this is gifted to every legacy reader bc, instead of loving y'all and writing y'all cute fluff and happy endings, i actually want everyone to suffer w/ me in angst hell so yeah! happy holidays
> 
> also yeah uh this is the worst thing i’ve ever written and by worst i mean like... i didn’t have to write it and there’s no Benefit of me writing it bc the story has already been vaguely mentioned in other oneshots and conversations but /shrug emoji
> 
>  **Warnings:** Death, angst, suicidal ideation/thoughts, grief, survivor's guilt. Like, none of this is even vague, it's just right there, all the time, just letting you know, so please, please do not read if this is extra sensitive content for you.

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

 

-

 

**November 2001 - San Jose, California**

"I wish you could come with me," Trini says, wistfully, giving Zack a kiss on the cheek as she walks by. A duffel bag is slung over one shoulder, her purse on the other, and her other suitcase is already sitting by the front door, packed and ready to go.

Zack chuckles. "I know, I know," he boasts with a mocking grin, "You can't stand being away from the Zack-man for _soooooo_ long."

At that, Trini pauses and sighs, exasperatedly, murmuring to herself, "Gee, sometimes, I wonder why we're still together."

"Must be something to do with my irresistible charm," he jokes, getting up from his seat at the dining table to walk her to the door, "Make sure to wait for me before you start getting to all the fun."

Trini raises an eyebrow and slips her hands into Zack's, smiling at him, curiously, "Why would I wait? It's just a typical, boring Thanksgiving with my parents, right?" She purses her lips, "Nothing _important._ "

Zack gives her hands a squeeze and shakes his head, "You're not getting anything out of me."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, spending time with your parents isn't _boring,_ " he counters.

"I know it's not," Trini says, giving him a knowing look, " _But_ by 'boring,' I mean, lacking unexpected… surprises."

Zack frowns, petulant, "You're the worst."

"If you were more subtle," she says, pointedly, "Maybe you'd get things past me." Trini makes to grab her suitcase, but Zack takes it before she can and motions for her to unlock the door. Rolling her eyes, she does and pulls her keys out of her purse, unlocking the trunk with a click of her remote.

The trunk pops open, and Zack loads her luggage in, taking her duffel bag without much of a fuss. "I'm subtle," he protests as he closes the trunk.

She blinks at him.

"I'm more subtle than _Tommy,_ " he rephrases, grinning.

"Uh-huh." Trini unlocks the car door and gets into the driver's seat, putting her purse on the passenger seat beside her. She rolls down the window, already anticipating Zack leaning in to give her a kiss goodbye.

It's short but doesn't particularly strike her as too short.

"I love you," he says, still grinning, as always.

She tugs him down by his shirt for another kiss, leaning a bit out of her seat to do so. "I love you, too," she says, licking her lips when she pulls away and smiling to herself, "Have fun with overtime."

Zack groans and rolls his eyes, "Just had to remind me."

"Oh, you'll be fine," she mutters, starting up the car and rolling her window back up. The sound of the engine almost drowns out his last words.

"Drive safe," he calls out, flashing her a thumbs up.

Trini responds in kind and blows him a kiss, shaking her head when he pretends to clumsily (but successfully) catch it. She pulls out of the driveway, slowly, surely, then turns down to the end of the street. Zack watches her car go until she gets to the stop sign and then disappears at a right turn out of the neighborhood.

Alone, now, Zack goes back into their shared townhouse, locking the door behind him. He passes right by the dining table where he'd been doing some studying for class. The dining table -- and the coffee table, for that matter -- are a mess with his MBA and her med school books strewn all around the place. Trini keeps telling him to keep his mess contained like she does, but even though he tries, it always gets out of hand whenever he opens up more than one book at a time. Truthfully, she usually never bothers him about it after the first comment, never follows up because she's starting to fall into the same habits after them living together for awhile.

His feet take him to their bedroom, and he pulls open his bedside drawer, checking that the ring box is still where he left it.

 

-

 

**Paris, France**

Kimberly wakes before her phone even rings.

Something is wrong.

She doesn't immediately jump to any conclusions at all, actually, besides the one that, maybe, it's her brain randomly waking her up. Insomnia isn't a normal thing for her, but it's been getting there, especially after her injury, especially _because_ of her injury -- waking up in the middle of the night because of a relapse of pain and then being unable to go back to sleep.

Still, Kimberly pulls herself into a sitting position and just sits in the silence of her bedroom for a moment. She moves her right ankle, slightly. It doesn't ignite in pain, and it definitely doesn't ache. She sighs, about to burrow back under the covers, and that's when her phone rings.

Squinting at the harsh glare of her alarm clock on her bedside table, she huffs and grabs her phone, missing once and slapping the table with the palm of her hand, grumbling even more. She manages to grab it on the second try and stares at the caller ID for a full thirty seconds before answering.

"Zack?" Kimberly asks, groggy but still summoning up an incredulous and slightly irritated tone, "Do you know what _time_ it is?"

He doesn't answer her right away, but she can hear--

Kimberly sits up straighter, reaching over with her free hand to turn her bedside lamp on. The bright light makes her blink and shake her head free of disorientation, but she focuses on the sounds from his side of the phone.

"Zack?" she asks, softer now, "Are you… are you crying? What's-- what's wrong? Zack, are you… okay?"

 _"Trini--"_ He lets out a harsh sob. Kimberly's blood runs cold.

"Trini--" she swallows, forcing the words out of her suddenly dry mouth, "Trini what, Zack? W-what's going on?"

_"She--"_

 

-

 

A twelve-hour flight was too long.

She had to she had to

God, what'd she have to do?

Kimberly grinds to a halt in the middle of her kitchen, her laptop open on the counter to nonstop flights to Angel Grove. Her hands shake, and she blinks and forgets the past five seconds.

Fuck.

An idea occurs to her, and she jogs back to her bedroom, almost tripping on the armchair she'd overturned earlier. She didn't remember doing that. Must not have been her. But, who else could it have been?

Whatever, problem for later.

If there ever was a later.

She yanks open one of her dresser drawers, throwing it to the floor without a care and rummaging through it.

"Don't think, don't think, don't think," she mutters to herself as she looks.

_Don't think don't think don't think because thinking will--_

Her hand closes around the emergency communicator Zordon had given her when--

"No, no, no, no, no," she says-- _shouts,_ scrambling to her feet. Her movements are rushed, haggard. She tries to clasp the communicator around her left wrist, but it slips from her trembling fingers and thuds onto the carpeted floor. Kimberly picks it up just as quickly as she'd dropped it, trying again, unable to make the clasp click into place.

If she slowed down, she'd be able to have a clear mind and get it done.

But, if she slows down…

"I can't-- have to--" She loses the thought of what she has to do but continues anyway. The communicator still won't close around her wrist, so she keeps trying, going back into the kitchen. The browser window for the available flights is still open. Kimberly stares at it, shakes her head, then frustratedly tries to latch the communicator one last time.

It won't close.

She hurls it at one of her kitchen cabinets, screaming to herself when her shoulder aches from the jarring movement.

In her agony, Kimberly doesn't notice the sound of molecules materializing or the flash of white light behind her, in her living room.

She looks at the cabinet where she'd aimed the communicator at, and her eyes fall lower to the knife set sitting on the counter underneath. Her breathing comes out shallow, heavy. Trini had gotten that for her when she'd moved into her own apartment in Paris.

"Kim."

Weird, she didn't remember thinking about Billy.

But, she doesn't look away from the knives as she acknowledges him. "Hey, Billy," she murmurs.

Footsteps sound behind her, and Billy comes into her peripheral vision, slowly so that she isn't surprised by his presence. His hair is shorter. No glasses. He tilts his head at her and smiles, but it's a small, sad smile, "Hi."

"How'd you get here?" she asks, distantly, like she's not exactly paying attention to his answer.

"I teleported using my device," Billy answers, "Like I do every year when we all reunite."

Kimberly blinks, realizing something, "We haven't talked about when we're getting together this year."

Billy glances at his feet, scuffs the bottom of his shoe on her tiled kitchen floor. "No," he agrees, "We haven't."

"I have to get to Angel Grove," she says, suddenly, frowning, "But my communicator won't work." She vaguely registers him glancing to where the communicator -- still intact -- lays on the floor.

Constantly glancing at her as he does, Billy goes over and picks up the communicator from the floor, examining it in his hands, "Did you try it?"

Kimberly scoffs, still not looking at him, "I couldn't-- I couldn't even get it on."

He steps in front of her, breaking her line of vision, and she flinches back, shaken into silence.

"Billy," she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes, "You're… here."

He gives her another small, sad smile and nods, "Yeah, I'm here." He reaches for her left hand, and numbly, she offers it to him, only superficially processing the feel of cold metal on her skin as he latches the communicator onto her wrist. It clasps shut with a soft _click._

"Kim," Billy says, gently, "You know it won't work anymore. It's not connected to the Command Center."

She ignores him and shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. A few tears slip out and trail down her cheeks. "I-I have to get to Angel Grove," she mutters, tensing up, "I have to-- I have to go home."

"I know--"

"The flights are too long," Kimberly continues, her brow creasing in frustration, "I can't-- I can't-- I can't sit still. It's twelve hours, Billy, twelve _hours._ "

He doesn't say anything, and she peers at him, curiously. "Why are you here?" she asks, frowning.

"You hung up on Zack," he answers, simply, “He contacted me and told me.”

"That was--" Kimberly pauses, trying her best to find the timestamp in her head _without_ actually thinking about it. Somehow, she manages to weave her way through her memories that way. "That was an hour ago," she murmurs.

Billy nods, "Yeah, you've been alone for an hour."

His words remind her, and she grabs his shoulders, trying to push him aside, trying to look at the knives again. But, Billy's stronger than her, taller than her, so he stays rooted in place, his jaw clenched as he struggles against her.

"Kim--"

"It doesn't matter," she growls, harshly, reminded of another time when he'd stood in the way of her and sweet, sweet release.

He wraps his arms around her, not quite hugging her so much as just restraining her, and grunts when she steps on his foot. Doesn't budge, though. "I can't let you do _that,_ Kim," he argues, firmly.

Kimberly squirms for a few seconds more, managing to get her arms loose enough. She pulls herself back and shoves him away, stumbling. Her vision goes blurry for a split second. She shakes her head, clears it, and glowers at him.

"Why does it matter? Huh?" she snaps, rage in her eyes, "Trini's _dead!_ "

Billy shakes his head, still somehow calm, and holds his hands out to her, trying to keep her from blowing up too much, "She wouldn't want you to do it."

She lunges at him -- past him -- but he tackles her before she can get anywhere close to where she wanted.

They disappear in a flash of white light.

 

-

 

**Angel Grove, California**

Kimberly stumbles away from Billy’s grasp, collapsing to her knees and dry heaving over the dirt. Nothing comes out but her tears.

She falls back, pulling herself to the nearest tree to lean against it. “Where are we?” she asks, glancing around. The scenery is familiar -- a trail she may have walked with her friends when they were younger.

God, when they were younger--

"We're home," Billy answers, quietly.

Kimberly stands with some difficulty, her mind still going, going going. She reaches out, blindly, and Billy clasps her hand in his, the muscles in his arm tensing as he supports her dead weight. "I didn't bring anything," she murmurs, thoughtlessly, glancing everywhere else but him, trying to memorize the outline of the trees as if it was the last time she'd be seeing them.

The sun has already set in Angel Grove.

And on her life.

"We can get things for you in town," Billy's saying but she's hardly listening, "You have money, I presume?"

She looks at him, suddenly, and narrows her eyes, ignoring him once again. "Why aren't you crying?" she asks, direct but her voice wavers.

Billy freezes and looks away, guilt clouding his features. "I can't," he responds, his mouth in a thin line.

"You can't? What do you mean you _can't?_ "

His grip on her hand tightens, and his jaw clenches. "I mean I _can't!_ " Billy snaps out through gritted teeth then takes a deep breath and calms himself when Kimberly flinches and yanks her hand away.

"I'm sorry," he says, sighing shakily. Kimberly looks him over; his hands were steadier when they'd been holding onto her. "I can't let myself do that," he clarifies, quietly.

Kimberly lets a moment of her thoughts pass then reaches out and brushes her fingers against his. They intertwine their fingers. Billy squeezes her hand firmly; she half-heartedly manages to respond in kind.

"Come on," Billy murmurs, "We should get going. Zack’s with her parents.”

Kimberly leans on him, and he wraps his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. "Are we gonna teleport there?" she asks, muffled against his shirt.

Billy chuckles, "We should probably get a rental first."

She just nods and mumbles her acknowledgment, shutting her eyes and holding onto him as she feels her molecules dematerialize and disperse.

 

-

 

Jason pays the taxi driver and turns to Tommy as the cab rolls away, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "You good?"

Tommy doesn't respond, and even in the night, Jason can see the shadows across his face, muscles taut, jaw clenched. Neither of them had been able to sleep on the plane.

Reaching for Tommy's hand, he frowns when Tommy flinches away, just barely missing the ghost of a touch. "Tommy--" he starts, but his boyfriend shrugs him off. Sighing, Jason takes a deep breath and shoves his own feelings underneath a very, very heavy rug and grabs Tommy's shoulder, turning him around before he can just walk off.

"Hey," he says, firmly, meeting Tommy's eyes, "Look at me."

They stand there in the silence of the night, lost and alone.

He leans forward and presses a light kiss to Tommy's forehead before he can shy away and runs a hand through his boyfriend's short hair. "I know you're still not ready to tell them," he murmurs, "But I want you to know that I'm here, okay?"

Tommy nods and pulls away. "Yeah," he acknowledges, his tone and eyes cold. He takes his bag from the ground and hefts it over his shoulder, heading for the hotel entrance.

Jason sighs and trudges behind him. The scuffling of his shoes on the concrete sidewalk is the only sound that accompanies him as he takes his first steps home.

 

-

 

They take another taxi over to the Kwans' house.

Jason reaches for Tommy's hand in the backseat, but after Tommy pointedly keeps his hands in his pockets, he doesn't try again.

The lights of the house are on as they exit the taxi and start up the driveway. Three cars sit in the driveway, taking up all the available space. Jason recognizes one as Mr. Kwan's SUV and the other as Zack's black hatchback, but the other one doesn't look familiar. Maybe Kimberly's -- or a rental since she wouldn't have brought a car all the way over from Paris.

Tommy goes up to the front door first, knocking lightly. Jason notices that Tommy's fist is shaking and almost tries to grab his hand again but stops himself, dropping his hand back down to his side at the last moment. If Tommy notices, he doesn't let on.

The front door swings wide open, and Billy, older than Jason remembers in even just a year, forces a small smile at the sight of Jason and Tommy. "Hey," he greets, nodding, "You made it."

Tommy suddenly yanks Billy into a bone-crushing hug, and Billy, surprise all over his features, awkwardly pats Tommy on the back.

Jason shoves aside a wave of jealousy and irritation and brushes past them into the living room.

He sees Kimberly and Zack huddled together on the couch and follows their blank gazes to the open ring box sitting on the coffee table and almost crumbles.

_No. You have to stay strong._

Clearing his throat, he gives his old friends a short wave, "Hey."

_Stronger._

Jason opens his arms and stands firm as Kimberly scrambles up from the couch and nearly tackles him in a hug. She's shaking, God, he's never felt her tremble this bad, not even when she told them all over tears and milkshakes that her parents were getting divorced--

"I know, I know," he mumbles, stroking her hair and feeling a bit useless for not having the right words. She clings to his waist, almost like a lifeline, her shoulders shaking and her tears seeping into his jacket.

He focuses on a spot on the carpet, even though he can feel Zack's eyes on him and can hear Billy and Tommy mumbling amongst themselves somewhere behind him. If he looks at anyone else right now, he might break.

 

-

 

The funeral is two days later, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

The five of them try to help out as much as they can, aided by Rocky, Adam, and Kat, in taking care of Trini's parents and the funeral preparations.

Jason finds that he doesn't have to think too much about what he's really doing if he just takes charge. Just like old times. It's easy enough to separate everything into tasks and then just hand his friends a task to do -- they accept each one without much fuss, silently grateful that he's giving them the motivational push they need to get up and get something done.

He and Tommy don't talk much, even when they go back to the hotel every night. Jason tries not to let himself be disturbed by it too much. Tommy's hardly said a word to anyone else for the most part, either, least of all Kimberly.

Speaking of Kimberly.

He knocks on the door to her guest room, pausing when it just creaks open. Kimberly is just barely visible, her head only poking out a bit from underneath a bundle of blankets.

"Go away," she mutters, her voice too muffled by the blankets for him to really make out, but he can wager a bet.

"You'll feel better if you get up and do something," Jason offers. He knows this, and frankly, she does, too. It'd been the basis of their relationship while they recovered from Maligore's influence. If they managed to get out of bed, then that was one thing done, and the rest would follow.

Maybe not easily, but it would follow.

"I'll feel better if you throw me off of the roof and leave me to die," Kimberly snarls, burying herself further into the blankets.

"Kim--" he starts.

"She wants to be left _alone,_ " comes Tommy's voice as cold as the metal communicator on Jason's wrist, drifting out from the kitchen.

Jason falters, waiting to see if Kimberly would respond to either him or Tommy. When she doesn't, he sighs and closes the door, leaving her to her grief.

 

-

 

They camp out in the woods after the funeral.

The turnout had been unexpected for Trini's parents, to see not just relatives and some of her closest friends, but all of these other… _friends_ to show up, people they'd never seen before.

Kimberly had heard Jason arguing against the other Rangers showing up, half for the fact that it'd seem suspicious and half for the fact that it just wasn't necessary to take time out of their lives like that, but Carter and Wes had talked him down and TJ had taken him aside by the arm to comfort him.

This, though, this is private. The other Rangers leave shortly after the funeral, some lingering to help clean up after the reception, but they vanish after, too, respecting the original team's need for space.

There's a campfire going, and Kimberly wants to stick her hand in it and scream.

Beside her, Billy bristles. She decides against it.

Zack sits on Billy's left, Adam next to him, then Tommy, Jason, and Rocky.

Kat is close to Kimberly on her right, but she doesn't pay much attention, pulling Jason's jacket tighter around her body.

An uncomfortable silence has haunted the eight of them for hours now, the only sounds being someone stoking the fire or clearing their throat.

Rocky and Adam haven't even cracked a single joke since last night, and it makes Kimberly utterly nauseous.

Zack sighs, a little too loudly to be incidental, and everyone glances up to look at him. He shifts under seven hollow gazes and reluctantly pulls something out of the pocket of his hoodie.

It glints bright silver in the light of the fire.

Kimberly gasps, shakily, a hand automatically going up to cover her mouth.

Zack's eyes are searching, looking for someone strong to hold his gaze. He passes over her too easily and finally settles on Jason, whose shoulders are too tense to match with the calm demeanor he's wearing. "She-- she left it at home," he says, his voice cracking, clutching Trini's morpher so tightly that his hand visibly shakes, "Her communicator was in her glove compartment, but I don't think--" He pauses, shuddering; Kimberly mentally wills him not to continue, but he does, "I don't think there was anything--"

She gets up, abruptly, stopping Zack from saying the rest.

Kat reaches for her, hesitantly, but Kimberly pulls away before she can be touched. "No--"

"Kim--" Jason speaks up, but she cuts him off with rage in her eyes.

" _No!_ " she shouts, fists balled up by her side, fire bubbling in her core, "Just--" She shakes her head and decides it's not worth it and turns on her heel, stomping away.

Behind her, she hears Kat softly telling the others, "I've got it," and breaks into a run.

 

-

 

With Kimberly and Kat gone deeper into the woods, conversation had somewhat returned to the campfire.

Jason is the first to speak the question on everyone's mind. He always is.

"Should we tell them?" he asks, eyeing the morpher in Zack's hands. Zack holds it close to him like a delicate treasure, but even from across the campfire, Jason can see the saber-toothed tiger etched into the power coin of the morpher. There's a soft _click_ as Zack dislodges the coin and holds it up to eye level in the moonlight.

Gold.

Jason bites his lower lip so hard that he could draw blood. Rocky nudges him with his knee, and he reluctantly forces himself to relax.

"I don't know if there's much of a point," Tommy mutters, staring directly into the fire.

He flinches, only slightly, only enough for Tommy next to him to notice.

"Don't they deserve to know?" Rocky asks, frowning and fidgeting with his communicator. It's blue, Jason realizes with a startle, even though he should've guessed that Rocky wouldn't dare overstep some unspoken boundary of respect and wear his color to something like this. For someone like this.

"It's for us to know and them to find out," Adam says, hollowly.

Tommy lets out an irritated sigh, "Well, they're not gonna find out _now_ , are they? Their daughter's dead."

"But…" Rocky hesitates, glancing at Jason for confidence.

A little funny how that works out, not that Jason has time to laugh now.

Nevertheless, he gives Rocky a slight nod of encouragement.

Rocky continues, "She's a hero, Tommy. We all are. I think they--" He clears his throat and wipes a hand over his eyes, brushing away the beginning of tears, "I-I think they deserve to know."

The air is quiet.

Technically, Rocky does have a point.

"We _were_ ," Tommy says, coldly, standing and startling Jason as he steps over the log he'd been sitting on, his shoes crunching on the scattered leaves on the ground.

Voice caught in his throat, Jason coughs once, twice, before he calls out to Tommy, "Hey, where're you going?"

"I'm leaving."

Blinking bewilderedly, he glances at the rest of the Rangers around the campfire. Nobody… really said they had to stay for the whole night, but really, Jason was planning on feeling it out. He didn't-- he didn't really want to leave. Or, maybe, he did.

It was getting hard to tell which of his feelings were his own and which were his friends' grief bleeding into him.

"We don't have a car," Jason states, hoping that it'll stop his boyfriend.

It doesn't.

"I'll _fucking_ walk," Tommy calls, bitterly, over his shoulder, continuing down one of the trails that leads back to civilization.

Helplessly, Jason looks at his friends, not wanting to leave them but also wanting to go after Tommy before he does something stupid.

He meets Billy's eyes, and without saying a word, Billy pulls his rental keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Jason.

 

-

 

"Where are we going?" Jason asks as he adjusts the driver's seat to his liking and buckles himself in.

"Doesn't matter," Tommy mutters, only pulling on his seatbelt when Jason makes it silently clear that he won't start the car until Tommy does so.

He rephrases, "Where do you _want_ to go?"

Tommy sighs, and Jason reaches over, brushing away a tear from his cheek. He doesn't flinch away this time. "Just drive," he says, wearily.

 

-

 

"Kim!" She runs faster -- or tries to, anyway, with her shitty ankle, "Kim, _please!_ "

It doesn't take long, though, for Kat to catch up. Kimberly has to take a breather, so she stops and leans against a tree, huffing, and figures giving up is less work.

Kat breathes heavily, stopping beside her, and chuckles nervously, "You know I can't run, either."

Kimberly scoffs, shaking her head, "Are you gonna keep chasing me?"

"That depends on if you're gonna keep going," Kat says.

"Just leave me alone."

Kat crosses her arms and steps in front of Kimberly as she makes to keep walking, "You know I can't do that."

Kimberly kicks the tree trunk with her right foot, hissing when pain jolts up her ankle. Kat rushes forward to help her, concerned, but she holds her off with a hand. "No--" she breathes, chest heaving, heart crumbling apart, "No, don't. It… it helps."

"That's your bad ankle," Kat comments, plainly.

"I know." She kicks the tree trunk again, groaning at the pain, tears welling up in her eyes.

It hurts.

But nothing could ever hurt worse than--

"Kim, you shouldn't do that--"

"Why _not?_ " she snaps, retreating back into herself when Kat flinches at her shout. An apology on her heart but not in her mouth, she lowers her voice, "What do you want from me, huh? Billy wants me to not fucking kill myself, Jason wants me to get up and keep myself busy, and you--"

Kat steps forward, grabbing Kimberly's shoulders. "We want you to take care of yourself," she says, voice firm and kind.

"It--" Kimberly shakes her head, tears blurring her vision, "It doesn't matter." Her voice breaks and she struggles, even as Kat pulls her into a tight hug, refusing to let go. The proximity, the closeness, the _intimacy_ shatters her, and she presses her face into Kat's sweater, opening her mouth and screaming into the fabric.

Her throat itches.

Hot tears make everything hazy.

Kat's grip on her strengthens, and vaguely, Kimberly can hear Kat sniffling as well.

She screams again, louder, not caring if she bursts her own eardrums.

"Why'd you _leave_ me?!"

She lashes out with her fists, blindly hitting Kat in the side, but there's no give. If anything, Kat steels herself, braces herself to be stronger.

"Why?!" she demands, knowing that there won't be an answer.

Kat's fingers stroke her hair as soothingly as she can, in spite of Kimberly's squirming.

"It doesn't matter--" Her voice breaks, "Because-- because you're dead." She laughs, almost coldly, "I-I-I didn't think you'd be the first of us to go, you know? Seems weird."

"There's-- there's so many things I didn't get to tell you," she whispers, grabbing onto Kat's sweater and bunching up the wool under her hands. She feels Kat shaking, even if she doesn't register or acknowledge it.

She's shaking, too.

"Come home," Kimberly licks her lips, tasting the bitterness of her own tears, the bitterness of the hatred in her heart, and she begs. She sobs. She pleads.

"Come home, please please _please._ "

She buries her face into Kat's sweater and reaches inside herself, past the warmth, past the joy and love and peace, deeper into the darkness. Into the part of herself that Maligore had forced her to see.

She reaches inside for desperation and cries out.

 

-

 

"Stop the car."

Jason hits the brakes immediately, thankful that nobody is on the road behind them. They're somewhere beyond the outskirts of Angel Grove, not close to town but also not close to the campfire.

He knows with startling accuracy that if he drove in a certain direction, he'd eventually hit the ruins of the Command Center.

He glances at Tommy, "Are you okay?"

"Do you feel that?" Tommy asks, quietly, boring holes into the dashboard.

Jason doesn't ask what he's supposed to be feeling.

It hits him only seconds after -- sorrow that could kill. His heart twists uncomfortably in his chest, and he meets Tommy's eyes.

There's only one person whose love could move mountains -- or tear down a monster.

"Tommy--" he starts, but Tommy is already yanking open the passenger door and scrambling out of the car. Bracing himself against the pressure on his chest, Jason clicks the hazard lights on and gets out as well, rushing over to the other side of the car.

Tommy slides down to the ground, crumpled, on the edge of hyperventilating. "Jason," he mumbles, too distracted by his feelings -- by the bond between them all, "Can you feel it?"

He can.

Jason kneels on the ground in front of him and shakes his head, "Tommy, don't--"

Tommy cuts him off, "Let go."

He bites down on his lip and shakes his head again.

"Let _go,_ goddammit!" Tommy bangs his fist on the side of the car in frustration, "You've been trying to be our leader since we got here, and I'll-- I'll admit, I couldn't even make myself try, but I'm fucking sick of it!

"Can't you hear her?" he asks, wiping tears out of his eyes.

"Yeah," Jason nods, solemnly. He can feel her, brushing against his mind ever so slightly. They've never connected so closely before, and Jason almost wants to laugh at the fact that it takes a funeral for them to do it now.

"Let go," Tommy whispers, his eyes wild and pleading. He reaches over and pulls Jason closer until their foreheads are touching.

"I--" Jason sighs, reluctant. "I don't… I don't who I'll be if I do," he confesses, "Who am I without her?"

Tommy chuckles, bitterly, "Who are any of us without her?"

He's right.

Jason closes his eyes and rips his heart out.

 

-

 

Zack isn't fidgeting with Trini's morpher anymore, but Billy still finds the occasional glint of silver that he catches out of the corner of his eye distracting.

The crackling of the campfire doesn't help quench his thoughts, either, and he briefly entertains the probability of if he's brave enough to use the teleportation device in his pocket to just leave and never come back.

He's already been to the funeral, after all. There's nothing left after this but a wide, blank slate of unknown, and frankly, Billy detests the unknown.

Something shifts in the air, and he snaps his head up, catching the other guys' eyes instantly.

"You felt that, right?" Rocky asks, looking to Adam, who nods hastily, for confirmation.

Billy hates emotions. There's no formula or instruction manual on how to handle death. There's pamphlets, but he's found that those never help as advertised.

Yet, he can still feel.

It's distinct, a kind of prickling at the edge of his consciousness, something that's indefinably _Kimberly_ and _Tommy_ and _Jason._ He wouldn't be able to explain it to a room full of scientists if he tried. He just knows.

"No, no, _no,_ " he mumbles, burying his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the tears from falling. He glances up at Zack, finding only hollow emptiness in his friend's eyes. "They're grieving," he whispers, hoarsely, finally understanding, his voice breaking.

"Guys?" Adam's brow is creased in concern as he glances back and forth between Billy and Zack, "What's going on?"

"They can't feel it," he comments to Zack, not bothering to make sure that Zack's listening. Maybe it's for himself. "They can't feel it because-- because it's not the same."

_It's not us._

A wave of desperation slams into him, and he sobs, feeling so unmistakably angry, so unmistakably _Kim._

"I'm sorry," he says, not to Zack or Rocky or Adam, but to her, "I'm sorry we wasted your love."

He sighs into his hands, his heart breaking into five clean pieces.

 

-

 

Kimberly feels it all at once, like waves crashing onto a shore.

She stands alone, but together, drowning herself in their grief and her own, still screaming into Kat's sweater until she's sure her throat is going to tear itself up. She screams until there's nothing left to give, until there's no life left for her to live.

And then.

The silence deafens her.

She gasps, falling to her knees, the emptiness draining her like a gunshot to the stomach.

Kat lets go of her, confused, dazed, and frantic.

"Kim--" Kat stares at her, trying to piece together the puzzle, "Kim, what-- what _was_ that?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out.

 

-

 

The Kwans invite them over for dinner the next day, leaving an extra place at the table that nobody dares to truly look at. All five of them arrive, dressed modestly and somberly, and exchange pleasantries that are forced and faked, hiding the gross truth underneath. Jokes are told, anecdotes re-enacted, and pictures reminisced over. But, something is missing, something more than just a friend. A silence exists between them all, permanent and disgusting and evil, the truth of who they could let themselves become when left to their own devices.

They don't talk about it -- and they never will.

Nobody has anything left to say, and this isn't the time for talking.

There's been a death in the family.

**Author's Note:**

> title from If I Die Young - Glee Cast version for extra feels, originally by The Band Perry
> 
> hey do u think og trini would be disappointed, ashamed, hurt, or saddened by the fact that her teammates /literally/ cut themselves off from each other after she died? just something to think abt :)


End file.
